Dissonance
by could-have-beens
Summary: Jason Todd wants nothing to do with the Titans, but the reappearance of a familiar face forces him to reckon with the past he left behind.
1. Chapter 1

**Dissonance **

Jason Todd wants nothing to do with the Titans, but the reappearance of a familiar face forces him to reckon with the past he left behind.

* * *

_Now_

When Jason left Jump City all those years ago, he did more than leave a city of vigilantes in tights and garishly costumed freaks. He had left with a decision and a newfound resolve. A choice. A promise.

He would leave this life behind him — this life of masks and lies and shadows. No more tiptoeing around the law. No more fighting crime or committing felonies. No more bats or birds or Titans.

Jason promised himself he would start again. He would be _normal_, for once. Keep his head down. Get a job and maybe go to college. Act his age and do the ordinary things ordinary people did every day — like he should have done from the beginning.

So he left California. He hung up the mask and put the suit back where he found it. He went to Europe, Africa, Asia — anywhere that would take him far, far away from caped crusaders and alien superheroes.

And for a while, it had worked. He had something that resembled a normal, boring, average life. But his resolution to not interfere with the criminal underbellies of the world lasted as long as anyone who knew him — not that there were many of those to begin with — could reasonably expect.

Which was to say, not particularly long.

In his defense, it wasn't like Jason had planned it. He had been in Brazil at that time, doing the touristy stuff and enjoying the nightlife, when a young woman started screaming and swearing for all to hear. Someone had snatched and ran off with her purse, and the next thing Jason knew, he had knocked the would-be mugger to the ground without breaking a sweat.

It was a one-time thing, he told himself then. He had only done it because he had been at the right place, at the right time.

But the night after that, he witnessed an armed robbery on his way back to his hotel. He swooped in and, after a few well-aimed punches, the robbers were out like a light. Jason spent the next hour inside the small restaurant, trying to placate the elderly owners who were torn between sobbing on his shoulder and showering him with a steady stream of _obrigados pela ajuda_.

On the third night, he found a tiny wisp of a girl overdosing, slumped against the side of an unlit alley while people walked by, oblivious. She was barely older than he was, dressed in tattered clothes that had seen better days. Jason stole a car and took her to the nearest hospital, and he left before anyone could think to ask who he was.

The next night, he stopped another mugging with a red cloth tied around the lower half of his face. The scuffle that ensued was short and unremarkable, but it made his blood sing with adrenaline in a way that it hadn't for months.

By the end of the week, he was jumping across rooftops, dressed in his scruffy leather jacket and some makeshift armor. He had finally admitted to himself the truth — the chances of him quitting, of leaving this life for good, were well-nigh nonexistent.

So yes. His early retirement didn't last very long at all.

Jason didn't stay in the country after that. He spent the next few years hopping between continents, stopping small-time crooks and gang wars and, later on, taking out high-profile crime lords. The latter attracted some unwanted attention, and with it, a reputation and a new name. By then, he had worked his way through a handful of deceptively harmless looking helmets, several rounds of bullets, and more than a few mob families.

It took a phone call from an old acquaintance and a plane ticket in the mail to convince him to return to where it all began. Yet another promise broken, but what had he expected? Even Jason could admit it had been a long time coming.

Those first months back in Gotham hadn't been easy, but a dozen terse conversations and a number of drawn-out brawls later, things had finally settled into a routine. It was as uncomplicated as anything could ever be when it came to Batman and his brood, and Jason let himself pretend it was enough. He could learn to play by their rules, he told them, and he would stay out of their way so long as they stayed out of his.

_Shouldn't be too hard_, he had thought. And it hadn't been, surprisingly so. For the first time in a long time, things were almost . . . _simple_, for lack of a better word. Easy. Peaceful, even — or as close to it as a life like this could manage.

Jason really should have known better than to think it would last.

* * *

She looked different. Not entirely unrecognizable, but different.

Her armor was still the same shade of purple, but it wasn't the style she favored when they had been teenagers. Her hair was longer and literally on fire, the ends ablaze with orange flames, throwing weird shadows around them. Her face was thinner and more mature, set in a wary frown that told him she was scrutinizing him as much as he was studying her.

But more than anything, it was the expression she wore that caught Jason off guard. She used to be so animated, so _open_, and it had never been too difficult to tell what she was thinking. Her features were always expressive and unguarded, as though she couldn't care less for pretenses and facades.

Now Starfire kept her face carefully impassive, her eyes betraying nothing of what she might be thinking. It was jarring, to say the least.

It wasn't that Jason had expected her to stay the same. He wasn't naive enough to think the real Starfire would be an exact replica of the one from his memory. But he hadn't expected her to be so _changed_. To be familiar and unfamiliar all at once.

She was a stranger to him, he realized. For some reason, he never thought she could be, and a pang of guilt twisted within him at the realization.

Who knows how long they would have stood there, regarding each other in silence, until Jason's voice tore through the quiet.

"You're a long way from home, princess," he said, putting as much annoyance and irritation he could muster into the words. "In case you haven't noticed, this isn't your turf."

"I am aware," Starfire said coolly. "I did not come here to fight, merely to offer my assistance."

Even her voice was different. Jason couldn't pinpoint what it was, but something about it seemed off, as light and melodic as it was.

"I'll pass, thanks," he sneered. Not that she could see it with the helmet in the way. "I don't need your Kiddy League. I can handle this on my own."

"That is fortunate, for they are not here."

It was enough to wipe the scowl off his face. "It's just you?" he asked, glad that the voice modulator hid his surprise.

"Indeed."

"They don't know you're here, do they?"

Starfire flinched. Barely, but it was there. Jason wouldn't have noticed it if he hadn't been looking.

"Perhaps we can discuss this after the villains have been apprehended, yes?" she said mildly, seemingly unfazed. "I believe time is of the essence in missions of this nature."

A part of him — the petty, grouchy, unreasonable side of him — wanted to disagree. He was torn between grilling her some more on her presence in his city and barking at her to stay out of his way. But she did have a point. They really did need to get on with it, and as unhappy as he was with her arrival, he wasn't an idiot. An alien powerhouse on his side would definitely make his job a lot easier.

"Fine," he grouched, "but we're not done here."

"I did not say we were," she agreed lightly. "What would you have me do?"

Despite the voice in his head reminding him of who she was, of his long-held promise, of every stupid reason he clung to since he left Jump City — he told her. Against his better judgment, Jason briefed her on the mission, telling her in short, clipped sentences of the kidnapped children and the human trafficking ring that had infiltrated Gotham not too long ago. It was the sort of case where one of the Bats would crawl out of the woodwork at the eleventh hour to offer their unwanted help — help the Red Hood didn't need, thank you very much. Jason was still half-expecting Batgirl to hack into his system and speak into his ear, being all judgy and bossy as was her wont.

He certainly hadn't expected Starfire to come, of all people. And no sign of the Bats appearing either. Maybe these past few months had left them more shaken and out of sorts than he thought. . . .

As he spoke, it occurred to Jason that Starfire had probably known all this since before she entered New Jersey's airspace. He wouldn't put it past the Titans' resources. Still, she said nothing, nodding occasionally as he gave her instructions — which admittedly weren't much, since he was used to working alone and going in guns blazing.

If Starfire disapproved, she didn't show it. Her features had settled back to its stoic mask. He almost wanted to ask her what she thought of the plan — what she thought of him and what he had become, most of all — but that didn't matter now. What mattered was getting the children out.

They entered through the back door, taking out the guards without a fuss. Starfire's starbolt knocked them out easily, and Jason knew it would keep them out of commission much longer than his chokehold could.

They slipped further inside, sticking to the shadows until they reached a forked hallway. Wordlessly, they each took a separate path, taking out each thug they came across swiftly, quietly, methodically.

From what Jason had gathered during his investigation, the children would be kept in a storage space, somewhere deep inside the abandoned warehouse. Where that was, exactly, was something he had yet to determine, and he knew his window to act was rapidly closing. Already he could hear the faint echoes of a scuffle — the scumbags knew they were here.

_So much for stealth_, he thought as he rounded a corner and found three armed men, standing on alert.

But Jason was faster. Before any of them could fire, he aimed two consecutive shots at the nearest goon's kneecaps, and nailed another with a swift punch. The last thug finally reacted, but each bullet fired missed its mark as Jason ducked with a roll then lunged, shooting at his shoulder. A kick to his stomach, another shot at his thigh, and the man fell on his knees with a shout.

Jason pressed the muzzle of his gun to the guy's forehead, ignoring the whimpers and pleas for mercy that tumbled incoherently from his mouth.

"You've got five seconds," Jason said, menace seeping into his voice. His meaning was clear. "Make them count."

He did. Jason brought his gun down hard against his head, then darted to the direction where the sorry brute had pointed.

The storage space was more heavily guarded, with more than a dozen kidnappers scattered across the room, surrounding a giant cage pressed against the back wall. Three guesses as to what was inside.

The view from the ceiling rafters made it hard to tell how many children were there, but Jason could see their gaunt faces, their tear-streaked cheeks, and it stoked the burning rage in his chest. The children couldn't be older than ten, all huddled together as far from the guards as the cage would allow.

Jason was outnumbered, that much was obvious, but he had never been good at waiting. Getting into position, he took a deep breath and _moved_, firing rapidly before the men below could lock on his location.

The trouble with not killing, especially in a fight of one against a-hell-of-a-lot, was how much difficult it was to aim. Firing nonlethal shots wasn't as easy as it seemed when the other guys weren't doing the same, and Jason couldn't move as fast as he would have had he been aiming to kill. The fact that there were children witnessing the shootout meant he didn't have plenty of space to move. He definitely wasn't going to take his chances with stray bullets.

All things considered, Jason was doing pretty well for himself, but he was under no illusion he could keep it up for long. He already had two close calls, and had he not moved away in time, the bullets would have grazed his shoulder and pierced his leg. Three more shots bounced off his body armor, but damn did it hurt.

The screaming below got louder when a sudden blast of green light sent the door flying off its hinges. The remaining men turned their guns to fire at the figure in the doorway, but the bullets melted before they could hit their mark.

Starfire entered, her feet inches from the ground, her eyes and hands glowing a bright, blinding green. With her hair aflame and floating about her like a halo, she looked like a vengeful, otherworldly being from legend come to life.

Jason jumped down from his vantage point, using his momentum to take down one of the goons, then shot at another poor idiot that tried to lunge at him. One by one, the kidnappers fell. A starbolt whizzed past Jason's ear, knocking out the last of them.

Breathing heavily, Jason holstered his gun. "What took you so long?" Trust him to waste precious air on useless jibes.

Starfire didn't rise to the bait; instead she looked around the area, taking in the scene. Her cool expression cracked just a little when her eyes fell on the unconscious goon at Jason's feet, her lips thinning as she eyed the pool of blood.

"They're not dead," Jason snapped before she could say anything, "if that's what you're worried about."

"It is not," she answered, hovering above the bodies. Her hair, he noticed, was back to its usual red, though he was certain he could still see the fire in them, dim but not smothered completely. "Your methods are of no consequence to me."

"Really? Your lot are always so anal about the whole no killing thing."

"_My_ _lot_ is a race of warriors from a planet light-years away from your own. I am adaptable."

She sounded . . . _amused_, almost. It struck Jason then what it was that had seemed off about her when they had spoken outside the warehouse. Earlier she had sounded detached. Indifferent. The Starfire he knew could never be indifferent — she brandished her heart on her sleeve and gave her trust too readily.

_But that was then_, he reminded himself. He didn't know this new Starfire.

Trying to ignore the tangle in his throat, he chuckled and said, "Right. How could I forget."

Jason bent to pick up one of the kidnappers' guns — it was a good model, and it would be a waste if it wasn't put to good use — and realized immediately what a mistake it was. A flare of pain in his abdomen made him wince, and already he could imagine the mural of bruises on his skin and the world of pain he was going to wake up to tomorrow.

"Are you all right?" Starfire asked, a slight frown creasing the space between her eyebrows.

His whole body felt heavy and sore, and every movement ached at his limbs. His ears still ringed with the echoes of gunshots and high-pitched screaming. He wanted nothing more than to take off his armor and his helmet, and to sink into his bed and never get up again.

"Never better," he said. He almost asked her the same question before he bit his tongue — it was a stupid question anyway. Looking at her, it was like Starfire hadn't even been in a fight, still as pristine and as put-together as she was when she had arrived.

Jason stalked towards the cage, scowling at the bolt and chains that kept the children locked in. The kids gazed at him with looks of mingled fear and relief, and only one, a little brown-haired, blue-eyed girl, stared at him with something akin to curiosity. Looking at each face in turn, he felt something in him twinge painfully.

_Those fucking assholes_. He almost regretted the restraint he showed the kidnappers — god knows he could have made their lives a lot more miserable than they already were.

He looked away. Better to let the actual superhero do all the comforting, give out all the hugs and assuring words and say whatever it was you're supposed to say to a bunch of traumatized kids. Some gun-wielding guy dressed like a biker gang member would just scare the crap out of them even more.

"Care to do the honors?" he said to Starfire, gesturing to the lock.

She didn't need to be told twice. A single starbolt had the whole lock melting, and the children came pouring out of the cage, flocking to Starfire as they sobbed and clung to each other.

Jason kept his distance, but Starfire welcomed each child with open arms, whispering reassurances in hushed tones as she hugged and smiled at them, warm and sincere and inviting. It drew his breath away, seeing her smile again. Seeing that inimitable warmth that had pulled him in when they had been younger. That pulled everyone in, even now.

When the kids had calmed down, Starfire quietly ushered them out of the room. She turned to Jason, a faint frown pulling at the corner of her lips.

"I have informed the police department of what has transpired," she said. "They did not seem pleased by our intervention. In fact, they were quite adamantly opposed to it."

He scoffed. "Yeah, well, they don't take too kindly to vigilantes doing their job for them. Hurts their ego, you know. They like to pretend they're useful."

"Nevertheless, I am glad you found the children. They are lucky to have you watching out for them."

Then she turned, following the last of the kids as they exited the room before Jason could respond. Which was for the best, because he had no idea what the hell he would have said in reply.

Outside the warehouse, Jason finally allowed himself a moment to breathe. The kids were safe, with no physical injuries from what he could see. They were still huddled together, keeping close as they murmured to each other. Starfire was with them, unharmed and without a scratch on her. The police would be on the scene soon, and probably with the Commissioner too.

It was done. It was over.

"You may leave if you wish it," Starfire said suddenly, gliding to his side.

Jason was too well trained to jump in surprise, but it was close. As he tore his eyes away from the children, he was startled to see Starfire hovering so close, just an arm's length away.

"Why would I want to do that?" he asked.

Her lips curled into what could have been a smile, but the look was gone as quickly as it came. "I have the hunch, if you will, that you do not wish to be here when the police arrive. You need not worry. I will watch over the children until then."

Jason wondered if his discomfort was that palpable, for her to able to see it despite the helmet. But he shouldn't have been shocked, really. Starfire had a way of reading him like an open book even then.

"You don't have to do that," he said.

"I insist."

In spite of himself, he considered it. The Red Hood and Gotham's law enforcement didn't exactly mesh. Having 83 confirmed kills to your name would do that to a guy. Not like Jason wanted to get on their good side anyway, corrupt pieces of filth that they were. _Just_ _83? _he had taunted them once. _Missing a couple of digits there, boys. What's the matter? Too slow to keep up?_

The only times Jason had ever worked with the cops had been when he had the Bats to act as a go-between. He didn't relish the thought of interacting with them now. The Commissioner would undoubtedly come with the rest of them, and Jason could never stand to be in the same room as the man for long. The glare James Gordon never failed to send his way, the unmistakable distrust and suspicion, made Jason's insides squirm with shame in a way that Batman's disappointed sighs never did.

"Well, if the lady insists," Jason said at last, bowing grandly. A bow he regretted at once, and he did his best not to wince. Damn bruises.

He cast one last glance at the children. They would be safe with Starfire, he knew. There was no one better to protect them than a literal alien princess.

One of the kids caught him staring before he could look away. It was the brunette from earlier, the one whose blue eyes had looked at him without fear or panic. She said something hurriedly to the rest of the group, before making a beeline for Jason amid the other children's hissed cries of "_Sasha_!"

Without warning, the girl — Sasha, if that was her name — launched herself at Jason, arms curling around his waist. It took a moment for Jason to register that he was being _hugged, _and he looked at Starfire in alarm, unsure how to react. He let Sasha hold onto him and tentatively brought a hand up to ruffle her hair, deciding it best to stay silent and wait it out. A blank red face and an altered, mechanical voice didn't exactly seem like a comforting presence, and he would probably end up saying something lame and inappropriate anyway.

Thankfully, Sasha pulled away quickly, running back to the rest of the kids before the moment could drag on for too long. Feeling awkward, Jason cleared his throat, and looked up to find Starfire staring at him with a strange expression on her face. No longer blank or detached, but something . . . softer. Gentler. It reminded him of when they were younger, when a smile from her was all it took to make him feel like he was special. As though he was a good man — a better man than he actually was.

Some days, Jason had even believed it.

If he looked at her, _really_ looked at her, he liked to think he could almost see her as she once was — as she had been, when they had their almosts and not-quite friendship between them. He liked to think he could still see it — her telltale signs, the curve of her lips, the crinkle in the corner of her eyes.

He could have left then and there. He should have. He could have turned away and left and not have to deal with the painful conversation that would inevitably ensue.

But that look, that damn look of hers, made him say, "You know the Sprang Bridge? The one in the East End?"

"I am certain I can find it."

"Good." He gave her his standard two-finger salute and left before he could say anything stupid.

* * *

The Sprang Bridge was, technically, not part of the Red Hood's territory. It was one of the few places in the East End that he and the Bats, through some unspoken agreement, considered neutral turf. Still, Jason liked to think of it as his. After all, Batman and his army of child soldiers could have almost every rooftop in this godforsaken city to angst on, but him?

There weren't many places in Gotham that Jason could genuinely say he gave a damn about. The view atop the bridge, if he kept his back to the bright lights of the Diamond District, gave him a perfect view of those few places.

It was a beautiful sight. Anything would look beautiful when you were this high up, far, far away from it all. Yet even when he stood here and looked down at all these lit buildings and skyscrapers, all he could ever see were the darkened streets in between, the alleys and neighborhoods hidden in shadow.

For a moment, Starfire's appearance illuminated the city below. She was quite literally glowing in the night air, the tips of her hair leaving behind a trail of glowing embers in her wake as she flew. _Pretty,_ he thought, but so was the rest of her, really.

No doubt her arrival would be all over the news by now. It wasn't often another superhero dropped in to lend a hand, and even then they were rarely as striking and conspicuous as her. Even Superman was a lot more subtle, his visits more under the radar.

God, Batman would be so _pissed_. The thought was almost enough to make Jason think this whole thing was worth it. Almost.

"So," he began, drawing the word out as she landed. "The hair. That's new."

"As is your mask," she said. The fire in her hair had died down, the last of the flames dimming just as her feet touched the ground. "It is good to see you again, Red X."

Hearing his name, his old name, sent an unpleasant weight plunging to the pit of his stomach. "Haven't gone by that name in a while, cutie."

The nickname slipped out without thought, but if she noticed, she didn't show it. Starfire simply tilted her head at him, watching him with that intense, inscrutable look, like she was trying to make out his face under the helmet.

"Would you prefer it if I called you Red Hood?" she asked.

"X is fine." Again, the words fell past his lips before he had time to rein them in. Goddammit. "And it's not a mask, by the way. It's a helmet."

"It hides who you are from the world. Allows you to pretend you are someone other than yourself. That is a mask, is it not?"

"Touche," he said. "But you didn't cross the country just to philosophize at me. The Bats know you're here?"

"They do not."

Jason let out a low whistle. "Batman isn't going to be too happy about that. He's got this strict no meta interference rule — fucking stupid, if you ask me, but everyone just humors him and goes along with it. Leaves us to our misery and all that."

Starfire lifted her chin, looking every bit like the royal she was. "I do not intend to interfere with his business," she said. "And my own is of no concern to him"

He couldn't help but smile at that. She had never been afraid of the Batman, had never been intimidated by him when so many else were. That much, at least, hadn't changed.

"And what is that exactly?" Jason said. "This business of yours. What brings you to our sunny, sunny city?"

Before she would have frowned at him, would have looked at the sky and argued with him for saying such a blatant misnomer. Now, she did away with the pleasantries completely and said, without preamble, "I need your help."

Jason looked away, turning his head toward the view below — the city that birthed him, shaped him, molded him. He had thought, for the longest time, that he would never return here, that he would never lay his eyes on this shithole again. It had been one of his promises, one of the first he had made to himself in the days after he had burst from a pool of neon green, still reeling from the waters that burned in his throat and the acid that bubbled in his veins.

How foolish of him to think he could keep this one promise. How stupid of him to believe he could stay away from her for good.

"Thought as much," Jason said at last, leaning against the edge. "But why come to me?"

"It is a matter that requires your expertise."

His eyebrows rose, and he was surprised enough to swivel back to face her. "You want me to kill a guy?"

Starfire frowned. "I did not mean those expertise," she said slowly. "I . . . was not aware you have become a mercenary for hire."

"I'm not," he said tersely. "I don't waste my bullets so I can get paid, princess. I do it because there are scum who need to be put down. Permanently."

Her frown etched itself deeper into the sides of her face. "I see."

Jason couldn't tell if it was judgment, disappointment, or indifference that colored her tone. It made his chest ache all the same, and he pushed the thought away before he could convince himself it mattered.

Because it didn't. Shouldn't. This wasn't the first time his methods had been questioned, and this certainly wouldn't be the last. He was tired of having to defend himself — as if what he did and who he was now even needed defending — and he had no interest in starting the same old debate, of sounding like a broken record played again and again and _again_.

"I don't have to explain myself to you, princess," he seethed. "Just because you and your friends think I'm no better than —"

"But you are. You have never been like the villains we fought."

"Careful there, cutie. It almost sounds like you _care_ about what they think of me."

Her jaw clenched, and she stilled, eyes hardening to stone. Jason, too, had tensed, his muscles coiling tightly beneath his skin.

_Stupid, stupid, stupid._ God, what had he been expecting? For her to say yes? To say no? Which would have been worse? _Fucking idiot._

"We are getting sidetracked," Starfire said, in a commanding voice that brooked no argument. "I am here because I need you to find someone."

"A criminal?"

"A friend."

"Missing persons case?" At her nod, he added, "You need a detective for that."

"And you are one, are you not?"

"Oh, I'm definitely qualified," he drawled. "But aren't you friends with Bird Boy Number Three? Why don't you go to him?"

She looked away. For the first time, she looked uncomfortable. With her gaze downcast, Jason could almost believe she felt as out of her depth as he did. "I have," she started, "and he . . . he does not approve."

Ah. Well, that explained some things. The secrecy, the sudden visit. . . . Not like he had been dumb enough to think she came here for him, but it was nice to have some assurance on that front.

"And what makes you think I will?" Jason said, as if he didn't already know the answer.

"I do not need your approval. Only your assistance. You do not need the former to do what I ask of you."

He snorted. "Must be bad, if you're coming to _me_ for help."

"Will you? I need your word, X."

"Didn't they ever teach you not to trust strange men with guns?"

She looked at him then, her face softening. For one fleeting moment, it looked like she would step closer and reach out, like she would cross the space between them, but she didn't move an inch. "You are not strange," she said quietly. "You were my friend. I trust that you will not go back on a promise."

Were. Past tense. The word stuck in his brain and held there, even as he scoffed and told himself he didn't care.

"I haven't said yes, cutie," he pointed out. "You still haven't told me what this is about."

But who was he kidding? It wasn't like she needed to. Even before she had asked, he knew. The moment she arrived, the moment he caught sight of her for the first time in years, he knew.

He would say yes. Whatever it was she asked of him, he would say yes. He didn't think it was even possible to do otherwise.

"What do you need?" he asked.

Her hair began to burn on the ends again, casting her face aglow at an odd angle. It made her eyes — as bright and inhumanly green as he remembered — seem even wider, warmer and more imploring.

Honest to god, what chance did he really have to say no? Was there ever really any doubt that he would? That he even _could_?

"I need your help," she repeated. "I need you to find Dick Grayson."

Jason laughed, hollow and mirthless. He couldn't help it. Because _of course_ it was about _him_. Of fucking course. He shouldn't have been surprised.

It was always about Dick Grayson when it came to her.


	2. Chapter 2

Just to clarify some things: this story will follow a somewhat nonlinear narrative. The chapters will switch between present and past events, to shed some light on all the drama and tension going on with Jason, Star, and the mystery surrounding Dick. Hopefully the style doesn't get too confusing. If you do find it hard to follow though, please don't hesitate to tell me. Feel free to pm me and ask.

To **miss** **geek**, I hope this update answers your question. So far, all of the Teen Titans stories I plan to publish are multi-chaptered fics. No immediate plans to write a Red X/Starfire oneshot, but I do have a few stories lined up.

To **P.P**, thank you so much for the lovely review! I couldn't stop smiling when I got it! While I agree with everything you said about Jason, I think his feelings of inadequacy when compared to Dick (he probably feels the same with Tim and Damian too, but I digress) are a part of his character. But it's one thing to have Jason feel this way, and another to portray him in a way that makes the audience and other characters view him that way. It's the latter that I really hate, because it leads the comics and some fans to treat him like a poor man's version of Dick. JayBabs is a symptom of that, but I think JayKori won't be if it was written well. I just wish more people shipped it honestly.

Thank you to everyone who read the first chapter! And special thanks to those who reviewed — I really appreciate that you took the time to tell me what you thought of the story. Thank you so much!

* * *

_Then_

Starfire had been on solo patrol when it happened. The both of them had been so stunned that they had spent several seconds simply staring at the other, pausing mid-motion to regard each other in disbelief. She hadn't expected to see him again after so long — and, it seemed, neither had Red X.

In hindsight, the Titans should have known the thief was bound to reappear and wreak havoc sooner or later. As Starfire flew through the labyrinthine corridors of the xenothium factory, she couldn't help but wish she and her friends had been more prepared. Although, in their defense, it had been years since the last time they had seen or heard from Red X. Even Robin had believed their dealings with him, wherever the thief had gone, was over and done for good.

Starfire had no way of informing the others of just how wrong they had been. Her communicator had been lost early in the scuffle, and it was unlikely the Titans could track her whereabouts without it.

Just as unlikely as it was for Starfire to be able to apprehend Red X without her friends. While she didn't doubt her skill, she didn't doubt Red X's either. How could she capture him alone when even the Titans, as a team, had never been able to before?

_But perhaps. . . ._

Starfire threw another starbolt at the thief. Predictably, it missed its mark, but Red X dodged it by using his grapnel to hook a metal beam in the ceiling, pulling himself out of range. It wouldn't have been unusual, had he not made a similar escape earlier in the fight. Not once had Red X dodged by teleporting away, as he used to do before.

_He is running out of xenothium_, Starfire realized. The thief had been relying more on his skill than on the suit's special abilities. He had even stopped throwing his shurikens at her, and had only done so to distract her when they had first caught sight of each other.

The realization made Starfire fly higher, adrenaline pumping as they continued the chase at ceiling level. Perhaps she had a chance to catch him after all.

"Gotta say, sweetheart," Red X said as he jumped to another beam, not pausing in his pace as he ran. "This wasn't the welcome party I had in mind. Thought there'd be more of a challenge."

Starfire felt her temper flare. "I am not your sweetheart," she snapped.

"That explains the sour look on your face," Red X retorted, and her anger heightened as he managed to evade her starbolt yet again.

This was the first time Starfire had ever faced him on her own. Usually it was Robin that Red X drew out, that he taunted and goaded as the thrill of the chase broke them away from the rest of the team. Without Robin here, without the rest of the Titans, Starfire had no choice but to be on the receiving end of all of Red X's barbs. _Flirting_, Raven had once labeled it.

Whatever it was called, it was terribly annoying. His comments on her appearance Starfire could ignore well enough, but those about Robin and her . . . _association_ with him were harder to brush off. They rendered her flustered and speechless in a way that his suggestive remarks couldn't. More than once, his jibes made her falter midair. It wasn't enough to ground her completely, but the thought had been planted, niggling and demanding to be seen.

The security guards, who had been trailing after them since their chase began, were drawing near. Starfire could hear their footsteps, faint but close. Close enough that they would be gaining in on Red X soon.

Red X must have noticed it as well, because he was trying to move faster, throwing sticky X's as he dodged her eyebeams. He was using what little gadgets he had left to get Starfire to move back. But there was only so much a human body could do without fuel, and Red X was fast running out of his.

"You know," Red X started, sounding as nonchalant as ever, "you've really got to wonder what sort of people makes and sells these things." He threw another X in her direction, making it clear exactly what he was referring to.

"Who they are does not change anything," Starfire snarled. "I will take you into custody regardless."

"As tempting as rotting in a jail cell sounds, I'd rather you take me out instead —"

Another starbolt, this time hitting his right leg and driving him back and off balance. It didn't stop Red X from running, but now he did so — and Starfire noticed this with no small amount of satisfaction — by favoring one side.

"Not that kind of taking out!" he called, taking his grapnel again to launch onto another beam. Getting hit, it seemed, did not stop his mouth from running either. "Really though, you've never wondered? Not even a little?"

Starfire had wondered before, but she didn't deign to answer. The thief didn't need to know it, and neither did he need to know that she had dismissed such worries as another Earth matter that wasn't hers to meddle with.

"If you knew even half of the things I do about this damn place, you'd think twice about helping them. Might as well save yourself the trouble and let me take care of my business. Chuckles doesn't have to know —"

Starfire cut him off with her eyebeams, only narrowly missing his shoulder as he ducked to avoid it.

"Whatever they have done," she spat, "the xenothium is safer in their hands than in yours."

At that moment, the guards had finally caught up to them. Despite Starfire's initial relief, it soon became clear that the men filtering into the room were not regular security guards. They were garbed in high-tech armor and were carrying rifles that did not at all look like standard weapons.

"You sure about that?" Red X snarked.

Before Starfire could respond, the men began firing. Red X had run out of gadgets, but his speed and his suit allowed him to blend in the shadows. Both he and Starfire were so high up that the guards were shooting blindly, and at first she thought the bullets that came her way were simply due to misfires and bad aim. It didn't take long for Starfire to realize this wasn't the case — the armed men weren't just aiming at Red X, they were firing at _her_ as well.

Changing tactics, Starfire stopped abruptly and swiveled, turning her starbolts toward the guns below. Red X was quick to notice, and he wasted no time in leaping to her direction. He moved behind her until he was close enough to use her as a shield, but not enough that she could grab him without alerting his attention.

"What did I tell you, kid?" he said, and she could hear the smirk in his voice. "Can't trust these guys."

Starfire gritted her teeth as she aimed another starbolt. It was hard enough to disarm the guards with their numbers — a bullet had already grazed her shoulder, and two more had scraped against her leg — and she didn't need Red X's comments to distract her.

"They are following orders," she bit out.

"Oh I bet," he said sardonically.

And then several things happened at once.

"Watch out!" she heard Red X yell. Heard the sound of a grapnel gun being fired. Felt him grabbing her shoulders, using his momentum to move her away from her position.

It seemed that in between her attempts to disarm the guards and to keep an eye on Red X, Starfire had missed the red dot of a sniper's scope, aimed directly at her chest. Just as this realization dawned on her, she heard another sound — the echoes of an explosion, steadily drowning out the gunshots below.

Without thinking about it, without even planning it, Starfire had used her flight to stop them mid-swing, turning so that she was now facing Red X. She caught only a glimpse of his surprise, the whites of his mask widening, before she had landed them on the ground, flipping their positions so that he was crouched in front of her, her back shielding him from the blast.

There was searing pain, fire dancing along her skin, reds and yellows and oranges clouding her vision, and then —

And then there was nothing.

* * *

When Starfire came to, she knew immediately that something was wrong. She knew that it was not her ceiling that she was staring up at, that the hard concrete she laid against was not her bedroom floor, that she was not in her room or the infirmary or any other room in the Tower.

For a frightening moment she couldn't feel or remember anything, and then her memories flooded back, all of them at once. . . .

Panic rose within her, making her bolt upright. At least she _tried_ to. Her limbs were heavier than she remembered, and her sudden movement sent a wave of pain rushing to her head. Vaguely, she registered the black cloth wrapped around her shoulder and leg, the hands easing her gently back against a wall, her vision blurring —

"Easy there, Sleeping Beauty."

Her eyes snapped open. Starfire felt the hands withdraw, heard the rustle of movement. She tried to sit up and turn her head to the side, but her limbs were not working properly, as though they were made of wax, and the movement took more effort than she expected.

"How long was I —" she began. Then stopped.

Starfire felt her mind go blank as she stared at the pale face, at the dark hair, at the high cheekbones and the strong jaw, at the lips curled into a sneer.

"A while," Red X said — because it was him, it could be no one else but him. His hand covered a wound at his temple, and dried blood ran down his jawline. "Long enough for me to try and find you a way out of here. Emphasis on the word try."

His mask was gone.

Though she tried, Starfire couldn't bring herself to look away. She didn't know what she had pictured Red X to look like, but she hadn't imagined he would be so . . . so _striking_. He was handsome, she couldn't deny it, but it wasn't his good looks that made her stare.

He was young_, _for a start, no older than she and her friends were. His hair, unruly and jet-black, had a strange white streak at the front, curled over his forehead. Scars, faint enough that the human eye would not notice them, covered his face, but the most prominent was the letter J branded on his left cheek.

But that wasn't what struck Starfire the most. It was his eyes, a bright green that seemed to almost glow in the dark. There was something not quite human about them — not in the way that Starfire's eyes were inhuman, but something stranger, as though they weren't quite real. Something eerie she could not explain.

"And did you —" Starfire tried, voice breaking. "Are — are we —"

"Trapped," Red X finished. He dropped his hand and the balled-up cloth — his mask, she realized belatedly — pressed against his wound, wincing as he did. "At least until your friends figure out where you ran off to. Wouldn't count on it happening anytime soon though."

"Why not? Surely they would have noticed the explosion."

Red X tilted his head slightly, so that the scar on his cheek was hidden in shadow. "They wouldn't. The explosion was too contained. No one on the outside would have noticed a thing."

"Then the people here would have reported to the authorities —"

"Doubtful," he said. "Considering what's been happening to places like this, I bet the guys running the joint are all too eager to sweep everything under the rug. Call it an _honest mistake_, dismiss the whole thing as an accident. Better that than the alternative."

The implication of his words quickly sank in, and the revelation almost shocked Starfire out of her daze. "You knew," she said. "You knew there would be an explosion. But how did you —"

"Because I planted the bomb."

"Why would you —"

"Didn't anyone ever teach you it's rude to stare?" he snapped suddenly.

To her absolute horror, Starfire could feel the beginnings of a blush spread across her cheeks. "I apologize. I did not mean to —" she broke off and tried to avert her gaze. "You are hurt."

Red X scoffed. "Nice save, but you're still staring."

She was, but she had forced her eyes to move away from his face and down the rest of his body, scanning for any sign of injury. "Are you damaged elsewhere?"

"You took most of the blast, cutie. I just got grazed by a bullet."

It wasn't entirely true. Starfire remembered she had hit him with some of her starbolts during the chase, and she could recall hearing him grunt in pain at least once when she had been shielding him from the guards. "Does it hurt?"

"It's bearable. Lucky for me, the guy's aim was worse than a stormtrooper's."

Starfire frowned. "I . . . do not understand. The men did not appear to be police officers and . . . please, what is their connection to a storm? I was not aware there was one."

"Er — it's a reference. To Star Wars." At her blank look, he hurried to add, "It's a movie. Well, movies plural. I can't believe you haven't heard of them — they're a _classic_."

"A series of moving pictures? What is it about?"

"Space battles, princesses, laser swords, some galaxy-ending family drama. . . . You should get Bird Brain to watch it with you. Make a fun date night out of it."

She stiffened. "The prospect does not sound appealing."

"Which part? The movie or the date night?"

"Your entire suggestion," Starfire snapped, glaring at him.

"Touchy, touchy," Red X said, eyebrows raised. "Going through a rough patch, are we?"

"That is none of your concern."

"Is your little lovers' quarrel why you're out here on your own?"

"I am here because I was — _am_ on solo patrol. And the only quarrel here is between you and I —"

"Why, princess, I didn't know you felt that way. If you wanted to move to the next level, you could've just said."

It took her a moment to realize what he meant. "That is not — I — you —" she sputtered, her ire growing at the sight of his widening smirk. "You — you — you _clorbag_! You are worse than a _clorbag_, you — you —"

"Me, me, me," he said, with the same infuriating air. "Not everything is about me, cutie. Shocking, I know."

"_Zolwarg tubeck plixing zarbmarker —"_

"No need for that kind of language," he said lightly. "Are you that nice to all your rescuers?"

"You did not —" she stopped. It was true, she realized suddenly as she stared at her makeshift bandages. Bandages Red X had made out of his own cape. She bit her lip, uncertainty stalling her, and looked away. "I am — I . . . I am most grateful for your assistance. It was not my intention to appear otherwise, nor to repay your kindness with hurtful words. I am sorry."

A ringing sort of silence followed this, skimming over for several seconds before Starfire chanced another glance at Red X. He had turned his head away, his strange eyes cast downwards. "Don't mention it," he said tightly. "You did the same for me. Consider it a debt repaid."

"Very well."

The quiet stretched on. As Starfire kept her gaze pointedly away from Red X, her thoughts drifted to her friends. She wondered how long it would take before they arrived. Were they on their way? Had they even noticed her absence? _Surely they must have by now. _

Starfire didn't doubt her friends would find her eventually. It was fortunate she wasn't in any immediate danger from her injuries — and neither was Red X, from what she could see — but she didn't want to be stuck here any longer than she needed to. Not so much because of where she was, but because of who she was with.

Because here was Red X, unmasked. After all these years of chasing after him, of the enduring mystery surrounding his identity. Red X was clearly, understandably uncomfortable with it all, but Starfire didn't know what to make of it, what it would mean for them once the Titans arrive. Seeing his face, what he looked like under the mask, wasn't as satisfying as she thought it would be, and her mind burned with more questions than answers.

"What I don't get though," Red X said after a while, breaking the silence, "is why you needed bandaging up in the first place. Aren't you supposed to be, like, invulnerable or something?"

"Or something," she mumbled.

"I figured you would have been bulletproof, at least. I've seen you walk off more lethal stuff than this."

"It is . . . difficult to explain."

"Try me." Starfire looked up at him, and Red X stared back at her before he sat back, lifted one shoulder and let it fall. "We're trapped here with no way out and nothing to do," he said. "Might as well pass the time by catching up on you Brady Bunch. Unless you've got any better ideas?"

Starfire shook her head. Whatever she had expected from him, small talk wasn't it. "My abilities are tied to my emotions. What I feel can enhance my powers."

"And weaken it to, I bet," he said, sounding pensive. She tried not to shift uncomfortably, stunned by his perceptiveness. "Bit inconvenient though, isn't it? You could be having one bad day because — I don't know, maybe the pizza delivery guy got your order wrong or something. Then suddenly — _poof_ — you're as powerless as the rest of us mere mortal folk."

"It is not as simple as that," she disagreed. "At times, yes, it is inconvenient, but I see it as no different from a human's, as you say, _bad day_."

"How so?" Red X sounded interested, his features set in a look of frank curiosity.

Starfire thought it over for a moment. "Imagine you had just discovered something most distressing. Perhaps it is the death of a loved one or perhaps — perhaps you have just learned that something you long believed to be true . . . was nothing more than a lie." Her throat tightened slightly, and she tried to ignore the wave of sadness that suddenly washed over her. "Imagine you had uncovered such unpleasant news only mere minutes before our battle. Would it not, in some way, affect how you fought? Can you say that you would have been as formidable in combat given those distractions?"

"Huh," he said, appearing to mull it over, but the effect was ruined when he went on, "So you think I'm _formidable_ in combat? You're making me blush."

Starfire could feel her temper starting to boil again. "I did not say anything of the sort. You are doing the — the — the putting of letters in my mouth."

"Words. It's putting words in your mouth."

She scolded herself mentally, fighting to keep the heat rising in her cheeks at bay. "Yes. That."

"No need to be embarrassed," he said. Had he been anyone else, she would have thought he sounded kind. "I've mangled up the Spanish language a couple of times myself. I'm surprised you've picked up English as quickly as you have, all things considered."

Starfire wasn't sure if it was a compliment or not, but she took note of the piece of information — that he spoke Spanish, apparently, and with some amount of difficulty — he had shared. "I did not learn your language by . . . conventional means. Not through the way humans learn."

"Another Tamaranean superpower?"

"My people learn languages through lip contact."

"Helpful," he commented. "Who was the lucky guy?" Starfire said nothing, but she didn't need to — the answer dawned on him soon enough, and he laughed as he said, "God, of course. It all makes sense now. How did _that_ even go down?"

Her lips pursed. "I do not appreciate this line of conversation."

"Ah, c'mon. It's the kind of story you tell the grandkids. You probably tell it all the time at parties."

Starfire turned away again, determined not to meet his eyes. "I do not wish to talk about it."

"Then what do you want to talk about?"

"Nothing. I wish to wait for my friends in silence."

"You're no fun," he said, laughter in his voice. "How about we play a game?"

She scowled. "No thank you."

"C'mon, it'll be great."

"Does it require you to do the talking?"

"All the best games do."

"Then I do not wish to partake in it."

"You sure? Because I bet there are things you're just dying to know. . . ."

The statement hung meaningfully in the air between them, and it made Stafire turn to him, curious in spite of herself. Red X smirked again, and she fought the urge to wipe the smug look off his face.

"It's simple enough," he said. "Like Truth or Dare but without the dares. I ask you a question and you have to answer to get your turn. No lying or skipping questions — you have to answer everything I ask and vice versa."

"That is all?" she said, doubtful. "What sort of questions can I ask?"

"Anything you like. Within bounds, of course."

"And you are the one to decide these bounds," she guessed, unimpressed.

"Not all. Promise I won't ask anything that will get you all tetchy."

"I do the doubting of that."

"Hey, I'm a fair guy. I won't even ask you about your boyfriend. Don't think I didn't notice how prickly you get every time I mentioned Traffic Light."

She glowered. "He is not my boyfriend."

"I find that hard to believe," he scoffed. "Everyone knows what happened between you in Tokyo."

Starfire froze, feeling a block of ice settle in her stomach. She tried to hide it, tried not to let it show, but the heavy silence that followed spoke volumes.

"Oh shit," Red X said, and he looked genuinely taken aback. "You guys didn't break up, did you?"

She fixed him with her most imperious stare. "Is that your question?"

"Depends if you'll answer it," he drawled, unperturbed.

It took every ounce of willpower not to look down, but she managed to hold his gaze steady. "To do the breaking up, there must first be something to break."

"Isn't there?"

"Your turn is done," she said pointedly, glaring.

"Fair enough," he conceded, but the slight tilt of his eyebrow belied his curiosity. "Well, fire away then."

Starfire studied him for a moment, his casual air and blase manner, how he leaned against the wall and smirked as though the whole night — their chase, the shootout, their current situation — was no more than a mild, if inconvenient, amusement.

"What is your name?" she asked.

"Red X," he said, without missing a beat. "My turn."

"That is not —"

"It is," he said, still with that cool, impassive look. "You asked for my name and I gave it."

She gaped at him, irked by his mulishness. "You know that is not what I meant."

"Well, tough luck, kid. You should've just said so." Then, sounding as if he couldn't care less for the answer, he asked, "What's your favorite color?"

Her eyebrows rose. "That is what you are asking me?"

"Is that your question?" he retorted, smirking as Starfire's jaw clenched in exasperation. "It's a good question. You can't really know someone unless you know their favorite color."

"Truly, I do not wish to learn more of you."

Red X gasped dramatically, clutching at his heart as though he had been shot. "You wound me, cutie. Really."

Starfire felt her mouth twitch into a smile, but she kept it stifled. "Blue," she said. "Like the Earth sky."

She paused for a bit, thinking of what to ask him, before deciding that any question of importance — his name, anything involving his identity — would most likely go unanswered. _Within bounds_, Red X had said.

"And what is yours?" she asked at last. It wasn't what she wanted to know, but she supposed she could stick to Red X's rules if he did the same. If he stopped asking such uncomfortable questions about Robin.

Red X gave her a crooked grin — not quite a smile, but not a smirk either. "It's really cliché, considering the whole —" he gestured towards his suit, at the symbol on his chest "— but I've always liked red. Don't really have a reason why — I just think it suits me. . . . You said Earth sky. Don't you have blue skies where you're from?"

"It is much darker there. A deep purple with pink clouds, both in the day and in the evenings." she said, and she could hear the nostalgia and wistful longing seeping into her voice. "It was not always the case, but I suppose it is still beautiful, in its own way. Mountains that go on forever. Slopes of deep red grass. Bare plains that shine silver in the starlight."

"Cool. Always wanted to go off planet." There was something like wonder in his tone, something like fascination, and Starfire wasn't sure what to make of it. "Your turn."

"Where did you go? That is — where have you been all this time?"

"Aww, I knew you missed me." His cocky grin widened at her glare. "It would be easier to ask where I didn't go. I was out of the country for a while. Never really stayed in one place for too long, just . . . saw some of the sights then moved on. Don't look back, is what I always say."

"And yet you returned here."

"Had some unfinished business," he said curtly.

"Why did you leave?"

"It's not your turn," he pointed out. "But since you're so cute, I'll give you this one. I needed to keep my head down and get away from all the _super_ business. Couldn't do that here. It isn't easy, with the Brotherhood on your tail —"

"The Brotherhood?" Starfire repeated, sitting up so fast that it took her a moment to register the pain. Red X was immediately at her side, but she waved his hand away. "Why would the Brotherhood of Evil —"

"Ah, ah," he cut her off, wagging a finger at her. "My turn, remember?" Starfire made a face, but allowed him to help her settle back against the wall as he asked, "If you had a time machine, where would you go and why? And don't be a spoilsport and say _away from this conversation_, because that's no fun."

"That is a very odd question."

"But a fun one," he countered. "I'd go to the future — see what human race will get up to in a couple of millennia. If we haven't fought each other into extinction by then, that is."

"I am certain it will not come to that."

Red X let out a short laugh. "You've got more faith in humanity than I do, princess."

"I should. There are worse planets — worse people than your own."

Starfire couldn't help but think of Tamaran then, and of the wars and misery that had engulfed her planet and her people. She tried to shake the thought away, tried to remember instead the memories that buoyed her — her father's kind smile, her mother's sweet voice, her _k'norka_'s lullabies. She thought of her siblings most of all, even as her memories of them faded and dimmed with each year, blurring like an unfinished watercolor.

"I think I should like to go to the past," she said softly. "Not to change it but simply to . . . revisit. To remember the good."

Red X scoffed. "Sentiment."

"You say it as though it is a bad thing," she observed, her eyebrows knitting together as she frowned.

"Isn't it?" A hard little smile was dancing around the corners of his mouth. "Dwelling on the past, on _nostalgia_ — that's seeing the world through rose-colo — it's a _weakness_. You're lying to yourself — distorting your memories so you could pretend the past was better than it was."

"It is not about distorting your memories," Starfire argued. "It is about — about focusing on the parts that are worth remembering. To draw strength from it." She fumbled for the words, but she found herself speaking sincerely, earnestly. "The good things do not soften the bad, but neither should the bad spoil the good. It is a weakness to dwell on the past, yes, but so is to forget it entirely. Moving forward does not mean you cannot reminisce once in a while."

His face was expressionless, and while Starfire couldn't read his eyes, she could tell he was thinking quickly about her answer. It looked like he was trying to make his mind up about something, and she couldn't help but feel as though the question had been a test of some kind. Or, if it hadn't been, then it certainly was one now, and she didn't know if her answer had passed or failed.

"It's your turn," Red X said abruptly.

"I am sorry?"

"Your question."

"Oh," she said, willing her cheeks to cool. She had been staring at him again, she realized. Longer than she should have. "Why was the Brotherhood of Evil after you?"

He shrugged, seemingly nonchalant. "They don't take too kindly to deserters."

"You were part of the Brotherhood?" she shrieked, starting once she registered what he meant.

Red X scowled, curling in on himself defensively. "They were doing a recruitment drive, all right? I got curious, that's all. They were getting people to join in their ranks without telling them why. No one had any idea what it was all about. I figured the only way I could find out was by getting in on the fun. How was I supposed to know they were planning what they did?"

"I would have thought their name alone was clue enough," she said dryly.

He snorted. "Point taken. Sarcasm suits you, cutie. Never thought you had it in you."

She scowled at him, trying to suppress a smile. "You are most infuriating."

"I've heard worse."

"Of that, I am certain."

Red X laughed again, but it didn't sound as mocking or disdainful as it had been earlier. Starfire marveled at it, how pleasant it sounded without the voice modulator and his usual derision. "When did you get so cheeky? Wait, no, don't answer that. That's not my question."

Instead, he asked her more about Tamaran. About her people and her culture, about the sights and the cuisine, about all the little things from her home planet she couldn't find on Earth. In turn, she found herself asking him of his travels abroad — the places he visited, the attractions he saw, the things he did.

Somehow, amid their stories and anecdotes, they had made the unspoken decision to forego the game entirely. They simply spoke of whatever came to mind — simple, harmless things that sparked her curiosity and made her forget the divide that lay between them. Books, movies, music — they spoke of everything and nothing at once. Inconsequential things that didn't matter in the battlefield or their world of heroics and crime-fighting.

It was . . . _nice_.

Starfire hadn't realize how much time had passed until she felt the sudden tingling along her spine, the familiar prickling along her skin — the feeling that told her _the_ _sun_ _is_ _rising_. Somewhere beyond the rubble, above the fragile barricade that protected them from the collapsed building, the sun was making its graceful upward arc, marking the beginning of a new day.

"The alternative," Starfire said suddenly, when she noticed how drowsy Red X seemed towards the end of his latest tale.

"Hmm?" Red X said, his eyes heavy and his voice tired. "What was that, cutie?"

"You said the people who ran this factory would rather do the covering up than make your — _our_ presence known. Why is that?"

Red X didn't say anything for a while, long enough that she wondered if he had finally given in to his weariness and slept. "They're not good people, you know," he said at last. "The guys who make xenothium — they're willing to sell this shit to the highest bidder. You've seen what it can do in the wrong hands."

"I know what it can do in theory," Starfire said quietly, "but I confess that I have not seen it in the wrong hands."

Perhaps it was an effect of all his storytelling. Perhaps she had simply been stuck with him for too long. Regardless, she knew even before the words left her mouth that she meant them. She may not know what Red X had done with the chemical besides powering his suit, but she knew enough to say that he wouldn't have done anything that was even half as terrible as what she and her friends fought on a near daily basis. Starfire knew that this thief, this boy who had helped her friends in the past, who had saved her life, who had sought to destroy a corporation he knew to be villainous, could not simply have the wrong hands.

Relatively speaking, at least.

The meaning was not lost on him, and she could have sworn a fleeting smile crossed his face at her words.

"This isn't the first xenothium factory to go up in flames," Red X continued. "The past few months, there have been . . . _incidents_. Some corporations have been shut down because of some anonymous tips to the police and the right journalists. If the guys here know what's good for them, they would say whatever will attract the least amount of suspicion. A robbery attempt and the involvement of a beloved superhero? That's definitely newsworthy, and not the good kind of news either."

"Some corporations," she repeated. "What about the others?"

"The others? Oh, just unfortunate second accidents. These ones, though, took the whole place down."

"I take it you were responsible for these accidents as well?"

Red X inclined his head slightly. "What makes you say that?"

"By your own admission, you planted the bomb here. This was your unfinished business here, was it not?"

"Don't you think you're giving me too much credit there, cutie? Just because I blew this one up doesn't mean I did the same with the others."

"Did you not?" she said with a meaningful look.

He smirked. "Maybe."

Before Starfire could ask what he meant, she heard a flurry of movement, echoing loudly inside their small bubble. She heard her name, heard the voices that seemed both distant and close, and then she heard him.

_Robin._

Her friends were here.

"Looks like your cavalry has arrived." Red X said, voice low and mechanical. He had put on his mask again, though it was stained and wrinkled with dried blood. "I'd love to stay and chat, but something tells me they won't be as open to playing catch up as you."

"What does that —"

Starfire never got to finish her question. One moment, Red X was there, leaning against the wall as he tried to stand on his feet. The next, he was gone, blurring and fading as though he had never been there at all.

_His belt_, she thought, realization crawling a trail down her spine. _He had the means to leave all along._

But he hadn't.

For whatever reason, Red X had stayed.

* * *

What do you think? I would really love to hear from you guys. Please review!

Or message me, if you want — I'll be more than happy to talk about comics, ships, and all things fandom.


	3. Chapter 3

Apologies this took so long! I hope you StarX fans are still out there, and I hope this update was worth the wait. Special shout out to those who reviewed, favorited, and followed this story during my hiatus — your support really means a lot!

To **Guest**, thanks so much! To **madelaine**, I'm so happy you liked the way I've written them so far! Glad to hear I have you hooked!

To **miss** **geek**, thank you for your constant support and for being such a diligent and consistent reader and reviewer of my StarX stories. I really appreciate it! And thanks so much for the fic recommendation. I read and enjoyed it! Unfortunately, I don't speak Portuguese, so I had to read it through Google Translate hahaha

To **P.P**, yes and yes to everything you said about Jason! I was nodding along to all of your points — DC is doing my boy dirty with how they're portraying him. And thanks for the lovely review on the latest chapter! I'm glad you caught that bit about Jason's eyes! Everyone has their own headcanon about Jason's appearance post-resurrection, but my personal headcanon is that it changed his eye color from blue-green to a sort of inhuman green. I say _sort of_ because I like to think that it's something that most people don't notice easily and when they do, it catches them off guard and they can't un-see it. Another headcanon is the bit with the scars — I like to think that the Pits removed all of his scars but people with heightened and inhuman senses, like Starfire, can still see traces of it.

To **aria**, I'm so happy you saw the comic verse elements! I really wanted to read more fics with the recent comic book stuff incorporated with the show, so this fic essentially became the product of that. I'm glad I've got you hooked on the mystery. Hopefully this chapter sheds some light on it!

Enjoy!

* * *

_Now_

Predictably, Starfire didn't find the irony of it all as amusing as he did.

"This is no laughing matter," she said, eyes burning a fiery green. "This is most serious and if you persist in the making fun then —"

"You want to find Grayson?" Jason said caustically. "Go to Gotham Cemetery. He's there, buried six feet under —"

"He is not there. You know as well as I that the funeral was mere formality."

"So what? Gotham's media darling gets a high profile funeral to satisfy the masses. I don't see how this changes anything."

"The casket was empty," Starfire told him, and he was glad that the helmet hid his surprise. "Surely you were aware of what had transpired when he — when it happened."

Jason didn't, but that wasn't exactly surprising. It wasn't as if he had been on speaking terms with the Bats when Grayson kicked the bucket.

"Heard he was on a mission with Batman," he said, shrugging. "Some routine patrol or whatever. Good old father-son bonding."

"Yes, I suppose it had been intended as such. The Batman did not inform us of the details until —" she looked away, eyes glassy. "His body was never found. That is all we know. There must be a chance that he is — that he is still —"

"That doesn't change anything," Jason said levelly, hating the way she looked in that moment, fragile and vulnerable and on the verge of tears. "He got shot in the head — you don't just walk that off."

"I suppose," she said, still keeping her gaze away from his, "but others have done the _walking off_ with far worse."

Her meaning was clear, and he felt vaguely taken aback to hear it. Jason had never told her about that particular aspect of his past, but he supposed Grayson must have blabbed in the years since they last saw each other. He wasn't exactly shocked that she knew — just stunned that she would bring it up.

Now he wondered how that must have gone down, how Grayson had convinced her of _that_ strange mess, when even Jason had a hard time believing it himself. It was, after all, the sort of thing that made the stuff of horror movies. Or some melodramatic comic books.

"I did not come here to dredge up bad memories," Starfire continued, soft and careful. "I know you and Dick have not . . . I know you were not on good terms."

"That's putting it lightly," Jason scoffed. "We don't talk, cutie. Didn't talk. I haven't seen him since Jump."

"Yes. He has informed me of the circumstances of your departure."

A memory of the last time he saw her rose unbidden — of the way she had looked at him, how she had spoken and reached out towards him, and how he had wanted to take her hand and never let go. Jason stamped it down, quickly and forcefully.

"Then you know we made a deal," he said coolly. "I stuck to his terms and he stuck to mine. Whatever happened since then is none of my business. And, frankly, I don't give a damn either way."

Her eyes hardened. "That is not true."

"Believe what you like — but Dick Grayson is dead. Sometimes it's as simple as that."

"This is not one of those times. I am certain it is not."

The look on her face, fierce and blazing, made him pause. Her stance was rigid, her gaze intense, and Jason could see her hands balled into fists at her sides. She was so convinced, so determined, that he knew nothing he could say could sway her, and he couldn't help but wonder if this resolve of hers was more than just the grief talking.

"Fine, I'll bite," Jason said, sighing. "What makes you think Grayson isn't rotting in a ditch somewhere?"

Starfire recoiled. "Do not speak of him like that," she said sharply.

He rolled his eyes. "Sure. Whatever."

"Cyborg has uncovered evidence that he might be back. That he is alive."

"He has, has he?" he said skeptically. "Why not let Tin Man work on it himself then?"

Again, she faltered, but she kept her face carefully neutral. "It is not . . . he does not think it wise to pursue further."

"And you think it's wise for me to do it instead? Don't want to get your hands dirty, is that it?"

Annoyed, she glared at him, her posture stiffening even more. "I would do it myself if I could, but my responsibilities prevent me from partaking in missions of a more covert nature. I would have thought, given your past with him —"

"What?" Jason interrupted, suddenly angry. "That I'd care?"

"He is still your brother."

"We're not _brothers_," he seethed, spitting the word out like it was poison. Just the thought of it made his blood boil. "We never were. I don't know what Grayson told you, but they're — they're _embellishments_. Lies to make himself feel better — to make himself _look _better."

Starfire took a step closer, her tone hard and clipped even as the words themselves sounded kind. "You were not there. You did not see how losing a part of his family —"

"_You_ weren't there to see how _wonderful_ of a brother he was. Family, my ass. I was just some punk that got picked off the street —"

"Do not speak of yourself like that either." Another step, and she turned to him then, eyes sad and gentle. "He cares about you. More than you know."

Those eyes of hers were going to be the death of him, he knew. Already, he could feel the anger draining out of him, even as he said dismissively, "To-may-to, to-mah-to. Po-tay-to, po-tah-to."

"I do not appreciate that analogy."

"Tough luck, princess," he said. "So this proof of yours. Where is it?"

"I do not have it with me. Cyborg did not think it would be safe to show you unless we were certain you would do it."

Jason scoffed. "Typical."

"Please, X," Starfire said imploringly. "I simply wish to be certain he is safe."

_Being dead is safe. Grayson's probably the safest he's ever been. _But Jason knew insisting that would only upset her more. And, god help him, he really couldn't bear the thought of doing that to her again.

"If you don't have your proof with you," he began, resigned to his fate, "then it's back at Jump, isn't it? So, what, I'm just going to waltz inside the Tower and get it?"

"_To waltz in_ is not the term I would use."

"I don't mean it like dancing, cutie."

"Neither did I."

It took him a few seconds before the meaning of her words set in.

"You . . . you want me to sneak in?" Jason said incredulously. "You're _actually_ giving me permission to sneak inside your Tower."

But it made sense, as shocked as he was by her suggestion. The Titans didn't know Starfire was here, after all, and he could imagine how hard it must have been for her to go to Gotham in the first place.

Her gaze was steady even as he caught the barest hint of pink on her cheeks. "It cannot be helped. Only Cyborg has access to the files, and he is adamant it is to remain in our database alone."

"You know I could always just hack it, right?"

She gaped at him. "Absolutely not!" she cried, aghast. "I will not have you do the hacking of our systems!"

"No," he said wryly, "you just want me to hack it long enough to get inside the Tower."

"That is different."

"Sure it is." Her eyes lit up, and Jason was quick to hold his hands up in mock self-defense. "Easy, princess. I'm just saying."

"We do not have a choice," Starfire said, the green fire in her eyes dying down. "The Titans are unaware I have set out on this mission, and I cannot have them know until we are certain of Dick's whereabouts."

A pang burrowed in his chest at the familiar name. She was doing all of this for _him_. She really, truly, honest-to-god believed he was still alive. Maybe that proof she was so eager to share was enough to keep her faith, but Jason knew her well enough to know that this hope of hers — this bright, blazing thing that made her strong and fly and glow — was her simply being her. Being _Starfire_.

"God, you actually think this is a good idea, don't you?" Jason asked, already knowing the answer.

"It should not be difficult for you. You have done it before, have you not?"

"Yeah, _ages_ ago. You're telling me your Kiddy League hasn't updated its security at all?"

She drew back, offended. "Of course we have. I simply trust it is within your skill set to bypass it."

Jason would have been flattered, had she not said it so matter-of-factly. Like she was doing nothing more than reporting the day's weather.

"What a glowing commendation," he said dryly. "Either you still have shitty security or you think flattery will make me say yes."

Her eyebrows rose in challenge. "Are you saying you are incapable of it?"

"Are you trying to appeal to my ego? Because it's not working, Leia."

"Is it not?"

"You can't just expect me to up and leave. Not everyone can fly across the country just like that."

"I am not asking you to abandon your duties here," she said, beseeching. "Please, attend to them for as long as you need to. All I ask is that you help me with this one thing and this alone. I would not have asked you if it is not of great importance."

"You asked me because I'm your last resort." Shit, even he could hear how bitter he sounded.

"I will not deny that," Starfire said, and only then did he realize that she was now an arm's length from him. "I understand you wish to be left alone and I — I shall honor that, if that is what you desire. But I do not have anyone else but you, X."

For the second time that night, he was glad he had kept his helmet on. It hid how much her words affected him, how deeply they cut him, even if she was close enough to have caught his wince. _She doesn't mean it like that, you idiot._

"Points for honesty," Jason muttered.

"You once told me that if there was ever anything I needed, anything at all, I only needed to say your name and you would follow me anywhere."

"That was a long time ago," he said, voice low as he dared to step closer. "Finally taking me up on that offer?"

The corner of her lips curled up. It almost looked like a smile, small and tinged with sadness. "I know you did not mean it the way I wish you did."

Their eyes locked, hers troubled, filled with some emotion he couldn't read. Jason wondered what she would have seen in his, if she could see his eyes at all. Could she tell that he wanted to ask what she meant? Could she see how badly he wanted to know _what way_ she wanted those words to mean?

_Just say my name, and I will follow you anywhere. _It was so long since he had said them. What did it mean, that she remembered them even now?

But of course he wasn't going to ask her, even as the question burned within him. Because he didn't really want to know the answer to that, did he? Why would he, when whatever answer she gave would only make this _thing_ between them — the heavy silences, the deep cracks, the gaping distance — even worse than when he left?

Jason stepped away.

"Next week," he said, brusque and gruff. "I can't give you a date or time, but you'll know it when I get there."

Starfire stepped away too. Took another step, and then another, each one sending a twinge of guilt like rusted metal on his tongue. "Glorious," she said. "Regarding the mode of your travel, I shall be making the arrangements —"

"No need. I can take care of that myself."

"Very well," she said, and for a moment, he could have sworn she hesitated before she began to hover off the ground. "I shall be seeing you again, yes?"

For a moment, he could have sworn she looked hopeful.

_Don't read too much into it, idiot, _he admonished himself. _You're projecting. Again._

"Sure," Jason said tersely.

Starfire nodded and looked back at him once before flying off. Jason watched her go until he could no longer see her, until the last of her flaming hair faded in the night sky. Everything seemed darker now, more blurred, and the lights of the city below seemed suddenly dull and lifeless.

Fuck. He was _so_ screwed.

* * *

"So you're going to California? Just like that?"

"It'll be only be for a day or two, just to see what they found. It's probably nothing anyway."

"If you think it's nothing, then why go? Why bother?"

Jason didn't need to see her face to know that Artemis was wearing her most disapproving expression. He knew that look well, even after only a handful of months of friendship. It was practically a semi-permanent fixture on her face, and Jason was relieved that he didn't have to see it through the phone.

"I get to see what the sun looks like again, for one thing," he said, pausing a bit to stuff a stack of carefully folded shirts in his trunk. "Go to a beach. Maybe drop by some casinos. It'll be fun. Like a mini vacation."

"I thought you said you'll only be there for a day."

"Or two. I can stir up a lot of trouble in two days. Jealous you're not coming with?"

Artemis snorted on the other end. "And be stuck in some cramped little seat where I don't have enough space to move my legs while some tiny brat is wailing in my ear? Sounds wonderful."

"Ah, the wonders of air travel," Jason said with a dramatic sigh. "But, yeah, I figured I ought to let you know. Wouldn't want Bizarro to worry, after all. Tell him he'll be seeing my dashing mug again soon."

"By the goddess, I pray it isn't too soon."

"Oh you. Don't pretend you're not gonna miss me."

There was a long pause. Long enough that Jason wondered if Artemis got the joke or if she took his Man's World-isms seriously again. He was just about to explain when she spoke, voice low and gentle, "Just as you pretend this trip doesn't mean anything?"

He stiffened. "What are you on about?"

"I'm not an idiot, Jason. What is this really about?"

Jason could feel his heckles rising. He had known, even before he had made the phone call to tell Artemis about his plans, that she was going to have questions. She always did, every time he insisted on going on missions without her or Bizarro. He just hadn't expected her to use _this_ tone, all kind and motherly and _worried._ As if there was anything to be worried about.

"I told you," he said. "I'm going to Jump. The Titans want a second opinion on a case of theirs —"

"You mean your brother's case."

He rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Christ, why does everyone keep calling him that?"

"_Adoptive_ brother then," Artemis said, and Jason could practically hear her rolling her eyes. "And I'm pretty sure you didn't say the Titans either. Just one Titan in particular."

"Are you really grilling me on _syntax_? Really?"

"That's not the point."

"Then what is the point, Artemis?"

Her next words were unbearably soft. "I know you like to pretend his death didn't affect you —"

"It didn't —"

"— and that you're not grieving him —"

"I'm not —"

"— and I get that there's a lot of unresolved issues between you, and maybe that's why—"

"_Unresolved_ _issues_?" Jason snapped, finally drowning her out. "What the fuck does that have to do with anything?"

"Don't you think maybe that's why you can't let it go?"

"Let what go?" he seethed.

"His passing," she said, still with that soft tone. "Clearly you feel some sort of guilt that you never had the chance to make peace with him, and now — now you're in denial and going off on some goose chase —"

"I — don't — care," Jason interrupted, each word sharp and terse. "For the last time, I don't give a flying fuck about Grayson —"

"Language."

"— and _I'm_ not the one in denial here. I know the guy's dead. Moved on to a better place. Whatever the fuck you want to call it. I'm doing this because Grayson's ex is still stuck in stage one of —"

"And that's the other thing," Artemis said. "You're going on a last-minute flight to check out some leads you supposedly think will go nowhere, about a case involving someone you supposedly don't care about — all because his girlfriend asked you to? You realize how ridiculous that sounds, don't you?"

_Ex-girlfriend_, he wanted to say, then grimaced at the thought. God, he was so pathetic. "Well, when you put it like that. . . ."

"So what is it then? If it's not grief, if you don't care at all about him, then why go?"

"Maybe I'm just looking for an excuse to get out of Gotham. Maybe I just want to get away from your nagging."

"Very funny," Artemis said sarcastically. "But you wouldn't have told me about this if it wasn't important."

"Maybe getting away from you _is_ important."

"Jason."

Jason sighed. He could already feel a migraine coming on. "I called because you would give me hell if I didn't. Enough with the armchair psychology."

"Only if you stop with your bullshit."

"Language."

"Be serious," Artemis said reproachfully. "Look, I just don't think this is a good idea."

"Well, lucky for us I don't care what you think. You don't get a say on this."

"I don't like being lied to," she said, and Jason could hear the anger creeping in her tone, her well of patience finally run dry.

"I told you, I'm _not_ —"

"And neither does Bizarro."

Jason flinched. It was a low blow, and they both knew it, but it got the job done. He could already feel the guilt settling in. Keeping Artemis out of the loop was one thing, but Bizarro? That was something else entirely.

Forcing his tone to stay even and unconcerned, Jason said, "I'm going to Jump because she asked. No more, no less."

There was another pause. "She means something to you, doesn't she?" Artemis said, sounding pensive. "Is she from . . . from _before_?"

"Before what, Artemis?" Jason replied, suddenly tired. "You got to be more specific than that."

"Before we found Bizarro. Before you found me." Another thoughtful pause, another beat. "Before you came back to Gotham."

"And if she is?"

"You never talk about that. About that part of your life."

"I never talk about my life, period."

Artemis scoffed. "Don't be ridiculous. You let us in, didn't you? I'm not naïve enough to think we were the first."

"What if you are?"

"If I was," she said kindly, soft and certain, "you wouldn't be going back to Jump."

There was nothing Jason could say to that, so he stayed silent. He heard Artemis sigh deeply, heard her irritation and concern and resignation at his secretiveness.

"Be careful, Jason," she said.

"I'm always careful," he told her, careful to keep his voice light and nonchalant.

On the other end, Artemis tsked. "That's what worries me."

* * *

Jason took the first plane ride to Jump he could find. Despite what he told Artemis, he had no time to actually see the sights of the Golden State, but a part of him was curious to see how much Jump had changed in his absence. Nervous too, even though he wasn't sure why.

Jump City was never a home to him the way Gotham always was. He had never hated it the way he hated Gotham, had never felt as drawn to it as he did with his hometown. He had never felt much of anything towards it, in all honesty, maybe because he had always known his days there were numbered the moment he entered its borders. Ever since Jason first stepped foot in the city, he knew he would have to leave it eventually. It was why he never bothered to build a life there, to make friends or create roots even when the reasonable side of him told him he should. His time there wasn't really living, so much as it was existing, going day to day on mindless routine.

But then Starfire happened.

Starfire, who looked at him like no one ever had.

The thought of her, and the thought of the time they had spent when they were young, made his chest ache and his stomach clench. Feelings of nostalgia, sentiment, maybe even a bit of excitement — there was almost enough to overpower his nervousness. Almost, but not quite.

But it was too late to turn back now. As awful as he was at keeping his promises, one thing was certain: he would always try to keep the ones he made to her. _Try_ being the operative word, never mind if it never really meant much in the long run.

His five-hour flight went by faster than he thought it would, but Jason wasn't eager to go to the Tower right away. Wasn't too eager to go sightseeing either, not when so much of Jump was filled with memories of her. Not when he wasn't sure what to feel, if he ever saw those same places again.

So on his first day back, he only got a passing glance of the city as he left the airport. He got a cheap motel room, took out his laptop, and got to work.

Work meant surveillance. Hacking. No matter what Starfire said, it was pretty much unavoidable if he was going to sneak in. She was right about one thing though — their security system had improved, but it was still similar enough to their old one that it wasn't hard to infiltrate.

_Bingo,_ Jason thought, allowing himself a moment of smug satisfaction. That didn't take long at all.

Amazing, really, how this little talent of his was the very thing that got him dragged into this whole mess to begin with. If he had never hacked into the Titans' database the first time around, if he had left them alone as he should have and never went after the Red X suit, he never would have met Starfire. Would have never ended up in this situation at all.

Jason had kept tabs on the Titans — on Starfire, most of all — when he had left Jump the second time. Done it more often than he should have, considering how determined he had been to leave the city and the team behind him. He stopped doing it after a while, after — well, after she and the Bird Brain got back together, if he was going to be honest with himself.

Still, he liked to keep himself informed of any major changes involving the Titans — changes in their roster, world-saving missions, things like that. Jason was up to date enough to know that they had gotten new members, all living in the Tower in the years since he left. He knew that the latest brat to wear the Robin colors was among them, and he knew that the Tin Man himself had moved on to the big leagues — the Justice League, to be specific. He even knew about Starfire, about her new role as leader ever since —

Ever since Grayson died. _Seemingly_ died, if Starfire was right about her little theory.

But as Jason eyed the blueprints of the Tower, as he looked into their cameras and surveillance footage, he could see that the Tower itself had barely changed. The layout of the place was surprisingly similar from before, secret alarms and hidden cameras and all, and he felt it would be as easy as before to sneak in. Maybe even easier. He was confident enough to do it on his second day back, once he was certain that all the Titans inside were fast asleep. Confident enough to take the same path he took the last time he was in the Tower. Confident enough to believe that he could slink in, find Starfire's evidence, and get out with none the wiser. Confident enough to think that he could do it all without having to see Starfire again.

_Too confident,_ Jason thought, as he rounded a corner and found himself face-to-face with a glowing red eye and the unmistakable blue glare of a sonic cannon.

"Red helmet, leather jacket, and a hell lot of guns," Cyborg said, his arm — and the cannon blaster attached to it — steady and sure. "Never thought I'd ever see the likes of you, Red Hood."

Well, shit.


	4. Chapter 4

As always, thanks to those who read and reviewed! To **miss geek**, yes, I definitely agree about the need for more Jay/Kori, and hopefully more stories of this ship will update one of these days. Glad you thought I captured them well in the previous chapter! To **Cuttingclass**, thank you so much! I'm happy you liked the story structure — it's a different style than what I'm used to, so I'm relieved that it's going over well so far.

For those who have read my other StarX stories, just a quick survey: I want to know which one you guys prefer — _Dissonance_ or _No Notion of Halves_? While I don't plan on putting either story on hiatus, I want to know which WIP I should focus on if I ever find myself with too little free time to split between the two fics.

To everyone else, enjoy the latest installment!

* * *

_Then_

Aerial twist, punch, punch . . . back tuck, leg sweep, high kick. . . .

Starfire flew through the air, striking at imaginary enemies. Fists flying, eyes glowing, she used every part of her body as a weapon, trying to recall half-forgotten moves she had learned many years ago on Okaara. There was little need to use them on Earth, as almost every opponent she and the Titans faced could be taken out with a super-powered blow and a well-placed starbolt, and the training she had received was too deadly to use on humans. Even so, she found it comforting to practice her old routines, to simply lose herself in training and to not have to worry if her punches were too heavy or if her starbolts were too lethal.

It was enough to distract her, if only for a little while, about problems she would rather not discuss. A way to compartmentalize, to address her issues without outright confronting them with words, to separate herself from emotions that would otherwise render her powerless and grounded.

Her friends, she knew, would not approve of this method, not when she was still healing from her injuries, but it couldn't be helped. Starfire needed _this_, needed a way to deal with what she was feeling, and X'hal knew that Robin would not —

_It is always because of Robin._

Starfire set her hands aflame, and _struck_. Her starbolt bathed the training room in green light, briefly illuminating a shape looming in the shadows above, before the light sizzled out, leaving a smoking, burned patch on the wall. She flew up to see the figure, but it vanished just as her starbolt had flickered away.

From the floor below, someone called up to her, "So is this a bad time?"

Starfire whirled around. Red X was in the center of the combat room, a plastic bag in hand, and looking for all the world as if he owned the space where he stood.

"What are you doing here?" she said and flew down to meet him, careful to keep her distance.

"Promise you won't blast me?"

"I am considering it."

"Sheesh," he said blithely. "And here I thought you were warming up to me."

Starfire frowned at him. It was too dark to properly inspect his profile without needing to get closer to him, but she could see that he didn't have his cape on — he had used it for her injuries, she remembered — and his suit and mask were crumpled and covered in dust. Perhaps a remainder of what had transpired during their last encounter? Or maybe the dirt was from another mission, another one of his unfinished businesses?

"Why are you here, X?"

"Can't a guy get a girl dinner without getting a fireball thrown at him?"

Her eyes narrowed as her gaze landed on the bag he thrust in her direction. Without meaning to, she glided forward, intending to check the bag herself, but Red X had already taken two steps back before she could say anything else.

"Ah, ah, ah," he said. "No starbolts first. You have to pinky promise."

"How did you bypass the security system?"

"C'mon, cutie, you really think I'm gonna tell you?"

Red X swaggered to one of the training mats and sat down, legs stretched out in front of him. Starfire watched as he calmly took out the contents of his plastic bag, looking so nonchalant, so at home, that she couldn't help but feel a flare of annoyance. Did he not realize what he had done? Did he not realize how wrong this was, him being in her Tower, in her home, acting as though he belonged here? As though this was not out of the ordinary?

_He does_, she thought. _He understands the magnitude of this _— _he simply does not care._

"Why are you here, X?" Starfire asked again, hands on her hips. "You may have saved my life, but this does not mean you are entitled to be here."

"Well," he started, ignoring her glare, "_obviously_ I'm here as a part of my elaborate plot to woo you and take over the world. Is it working?"

"No."

"Everyone's a critic. At least tell me I got the mustard right."

"Mustard?"

In spite of herself, she dropped the remaining decimeter to the floor, gritting her teeth to hold in a hiss as a jolt of pain flashed from her injured leg. Red X had laid out two containers of burgers and fries, with a large bottle of her favorite brand of mustard. She had mentioned it in passing when they had been waiting to be rescued, when they had been exchanging stories to pass the time.

_He remembered_. Something stirred inside her chest, and Starfire found herself kneeling down gingerly across from him, tucking her legs behind her before she could think it through, eyeing him warily as she did.

"So how am I doing so far?" Red X said, and she could imagine him smirking under the mask. "Pretty good, yeah?"

"You would do better if you were to state your intentions."

"Like I said," he said, gesturing grandly to the food he had laid out. "Dinner."

"For what purpose?"

He looked at her for a moment before glancing away quickly. He sighed, sounding reluctant and put-upon when he said, "I wanted to see how you were doing. Happy now?"

It was hard to gauge his honesty with the mask in the way. Even as he pulled it up to his nose to chew on his fries, there wasn't much she could make out in the dim light.

"I am well," she said curtly.

"Not enough though, if you're benched and all."

"Benched?"

"Ah, you know," he said, errantly twirling a fry in the air. "You're not — out there. Fighting crime and whatnot."

She scowled, hating the reminder. "And I take it that you are the same? Since you are not out there, committing crimes and whatnot?"

"Ooh, someone's in a bad mood." He sounded more jovial — more teasing, less mocking — without the mask's modulator, and Starfire was struck to realize that she had gotten used to his natural voice. She wasn't sure what to feel about it, whether or not she preferred this over the mask's modified robotic tone.

She shook the thought away. "I am fine."

He snorted. "Sure. You know what will make your oh-so fine day better? Junk food."

She eyed the food in question thoughtfully. Red X must have mistaken her pause for disgust, because he went on, "I know it's not exactly fine dining, your royal highnessness, but it's not gonna jump at you or anything. What's the matter? You're not allowed to accept food from strange men?"

"I am not certain I can trust you," she said honestly.

"Ouch. Way to rip off the band-aid."

Though he didn't seem offended, she felt compelled to ask, "Do you fault me for my caution?"

"Wouldn't have expected anything less, cutie." He picked up a fry from her container and popped it in his mouth. "See? Totally safe. Even bought it with my own money and everything."

Truthfully, she hadn't even considered it until he mentioned it. "Did you?"

"Maybe." He smirked when he caught her glare. "Relax, I _did_. I even tipped. I'd show you the receipt, but I left it in my other pair of pants."

Starfire felt her resolve waver. She had been practicing all evening, since her friends left to answer a distress signal, and now that the room was filled with the smell of grease and fast food, it was hard to deny that she was feeling not a little bit hungry. . . .

She picked up her burger and took a bite, humming in satisfaction as the familiar flavor burst in her mouth. "Delicious."

It didn't take her long to finish the burger, and soon she was drizzling a generous amount of mustard on her fries.

"Someone's hungry," Red X commented, sounding amused. "So do you guys always train in the dark or is that just a Tamaranean thing?"

Starfire almost answered him, but so far he had been avoiding her attempts to get an answer out of him, and she felt it was only fair to return the favor. "Hmm," was all she said as she munched on her fries, this time at a more leisurely pace to savor the mustard.

Red X huffed, catching on. "Fine, ignore me."

A few beats passed, with only the sounds of their soft chewing and the crinkling of plastic to fill the silence, and then —

"What's the deal with you and Boy Blunder?"

Starfire nearly choked. "I believe I have made it clear that I do not wish to discuss it."

"Then what do you want to discuss, cutie?"

"Nothing, since you have not answered my questions thus far."

"Hey, I answered them."

"You are not answering honestly."

"I did — you just don't believe me. Whose fault is that?"

"Truly, I do not know," she deadpanned. "I wonder who it can be."

Red X swallowed a bit of burger he was chewing. "Okay, I walked into that one," he conceded. "I meant it though. I wanted to see if you were okay, considering — well. You know. Last night was . . . something."

She regarded him silently, wishing he didn't have his mask on. He was hard to read even without it, but to see his eyes and his face and his reactions would have been better than blindly guessing at what he was thinking under all his taunts and sarcasm.

"Why did you ask about Robin?" she said wearily.

"No reason. Always gets a reaction out of you, so. . . ." He shrugged. "Him, too, for that matter. You guys make it too easy."

"Am I so transparent?"

"You wear your heart on your sleeve," he said, and it sounded almost apologetic.

It wasn't the first time she heard the phrase, and she rolled her eyes. "Is this your way of telling me that I am foolish to do so? That it is too dangerous to be so open?"

"Dangerous, yeah, but brave too. I can see why he needs you."

Something about the way he said it, at how matter-of-fact his tone was, made her stomach knot. "Robin does not need me."

He scoffed, but thankfully didn't push the matter. "Speaking of Chuckles, what did you tell him?"

Starfire hesitated. Red X didn't need to specify what he meant, and they continued to eat as she considered what to say. She felt his gaze boring into her as she poured more mustard over her fries until they were almost drenched, in a way that she knew Robin disliked. If Robin were here, he would have joked that she had turned the sauce into soup. . . .

_No. Stop it_, she chided herself. How utterly foolish of her, to be reminded of Robin even over the most inconsequential of things, to still see him everywhere she looked and to let memories of him derail her. _Do not think about it, do not think about it, do not think about it —_

"I told my friends the truth," she said carefully. "That I was trying to capture you. That we were attacked, and you saved my life in the process."

"And?"

"And I told them about the other factories, and your involvement in the . . . accidents."

He hummed noncommittally as he popped a fry into his mouth. "Never said I was."

"You did not need to," she said in between bites. "I do not know why you did it, why you now seek to destroy xenothium rather than use it for yourself, but whatever your reasons are, it is . . . _good_. What you are doing, it is helping people, and I — I confess that I do not understand you."

"Guessing your friends don't either."

"No," she admitted. "They think you have an ulterior motive of some sort."

"What do you think?"

"You will think me naïve, or too . . . optimistic."

"Give it a go, anyway."

"I think —" She paused, trying to find the words. It was harder than she thought, and she wondered if this was her body's way of making up for the adrenaline and energy she had spent on her exercises. "I think that you are seeking something new. That you wish to do something . . . different. I do not know what it is you intend but I think . . . it has nothing to do with being a thief."

The corner of his mouth twisted. "You think I'm turning over a new leaf? You think I've seen the error of my ways?"

"I think you always have," she said softly. "I believe you have always been aware of your errors, otherwise you would not have helped Robin before. And you would not have saved my life."

She chanced a glance at him, waiting for him to deny it, to say something mocking or derisive, anything at all, but he just stared at her — or, at least, she supposed he was. It was hard to tell when all she could see were the skull's eyes of his mask and the shadowy outline of his jaw. For all she knew, he could be rolling his eyes at her, jeering at her internally for her words.

An embarrassed laugh escaped her lips. "Or perhaps I am wrong. Perhaps you do intend to continue to be a thief, but with different means and methods. I will not pretend to understand your motives."

"Hmm," he said. "Did you tell them anything else?"

"There is nothing else to tell." She blinked, feeling a dizziness seeping through her consciousness. Perhaps it had been a bad idea after all, to practice while she was still recovering from her injuries.

Still, she felt well enough to hear his unspoken question. Starfire did not doubt that it must have been on his mind since they saw each other last, and she didn't blame him. If their positions were reversed, if she were the masked thief who had revealed her face, she too would wonder what her opponents knew of her identity.

"What is it that you really wish to ask me?" she said through the sudden fog in her mind.

He smirked. "You first, princess."

"Only if you will answer truthfully."

"Does it matter?"

"Is that your question?" she retorted.

He didn't answer, and Starfire was starting to suspect that this was simply how it was when it came to someone like Red X — that he would not be the first to offer anything of substance, that he would not give any information unless he was certain that what he got in exchange was of equal or greater value. If she wanted her answers, if she wanted her questions to be satisfied, she would need to show her hand first, and hope that whatever she revealed and whatever she gave him would be returned in kind.

She sighed. "Why did you stay with me that night, X? You could have left before my friends arrived, but you chose not to. Why?"

Red X made no move to respond right away, and in the ensuing silence, Starfire fought to keep her gaze steady. The throbbing in her head was harder to ignore now, but she tried to keep it at bay. She just had to focus a little while longer, to wait for Red X to leave, and then she could head to her room and rest like she should have done earlier, like her friends had expected her to do when they left.

"Because it was dark," he said at last, his tone devoid of its usual blitheness. "Because we were buried underground. Because we were trapped. When you're in a place like that, you can't help but wonder if there's anyone coming to save you."

"My friends would have."

Red X flipped his mask down and stood. Starfire moved to follow, swaying a little as she got to her feet, but either he didn't notice or he was choosing to ignore it.

"They would have," he said. "But no one deserves to be alone. Not like that."

"I understand." And she did, remembering her life before Earth, before the Titans, and the nightmares that haunted her even now, memories of shackles and blood and darkness. "I . . . I am most grateful."

"You shouldn't be."

Suddenly it was very difficult to think. Her eyes felt heavy, her vision blurring as she struggled to keep them open.

"What is —"

Her feet gave way under her. Starfire felt Red X's arms catching her and lifting her up, even as she tried to thrash against him.

"What —" she tried again. "How — how did you —"

"The mustard," he said, impassive. "I need to know what you told the Titans about that night, and tonight was my best chance to get the info from your files, what with everyone else gone."

_I have told you everything I told them_, she wanted to say, but it took too much effort to string her words together, to raise her head and glare at him, to give him the punch to the nose that he deserved.

"You were right, you know. About pretty much everything, except your Robin. He needs you — your whole team does."

His voice sounded too far away, too low and muffled to make out, but his words followed her as the world fell into blackness.

"And me? Sorry to break it to you, cutie, but I'm never gonna be more than a thief from Gotham."


End file.
